R7-Nicole-p2

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Washington D.C.
Tuesday October 10^th
9:30 p.m.

Smoke was a blue cloud in the darkened room. A cigarette burned in a populated, black ashtray. The paper curled away from the tobacco, as it lay forgotten for the moment. Spender stared out the window. The moon was waxing, nearly full, and it crouched in the sky like some careless beast. It would be full on the night his son was to be murdered, he mused. Skinner was still in D.C. and Krycek had not yet reported. Worse still his plans for ending the curse were not going well. The woman who had been given to him to perform the ceremony had assured him that her skills would be sufficient to end the ancient curse, and yet when he had shown the old bitch the bones of his enemy she had begun to laugh hysterically, calling him a fool. She had danced about a moment holding those small pieces of Alexander's mortality held to her chest. When he had had enough of her prancing and mad laughter he had grabbed her frail shoulders and in his coldest tone he warned her not to play games with him, to follow his instructions or suffer the consequences. The old creature just chuckled before handing him the bones.

"They are yours, sir assassin, they are yours," she crooned, a small seductive smile on her withered lips.

"Yes, they are mine, mine to use against Alexander…"

"No, they are of you. You hold nothing. Nothing but the bones of the source of the curse. They are yours."

CSM remembered her look. It had been one of the highest amusement. "The source is Alexander…I know all this you old witch," he had hissed.

"Alexander is not the source but merely the avenger. You have nothing that you could not find right here," she touched one of his hands. With this last she had sat, huddled against the dark thoughts that enveloped her as she rocked in her gleeful madness.

CSM stared at the hand she had touched. The nicotine stained fingers long and capable. He nodded at the young man who had stood quiet in the doorway. "Take her to her rooms," he whispered, wondering what the woman had meant. He had been assured that these bones were the key. He had contacts in the FBI field office, a mole who had been able to find the whereabouts of the remains. He had been instrumental in getting information from the close-knit community. The sound of the woman's cackling faded as he lit a cigarette. He stared at the old bones. They had been Carbon tested. The result had proven that they were indeed as old as the curse. The exact age of the bones matched the year Alexander had been murdered by CSM's own ancestor. The gypsies that had aided his contact in finding the bones had all been taken care of soon after their cooperation and so could not be questioned. A mistake perhaps.

Sitting now in the darkened room, he wondered what the crone had meant. The source of the curse? Of course it was Alexander. Who else? Still he planned on bringing her to Cape Fear. Mad though she was, she had the skill to perform the ceremony. The small sound of his cigarette falling into the ashtray earned no more than a small glance. The soft chime that indicated he had received electronic mail grabbed his attention away from the lazy moon. It was from Agent Piquet, his source.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spender Plantation
Cape Fear
Tuesday, August 10^th
11:30 p.m.

Fox lay in his lover's arms, their breathing slowing and his eyes searched the ceiling, frowning.

"What is it, Beloved?" Alexander whispered against Fox's ear. His sweet lover was so beautiful, so trusting. He could almost remember how it felt to live with only happiness when he held Fox like this.

"Father's gone? We never made love in here before. Why now? What is happening, Alexander? Why are we here?"

Alexander stared down at the troubled face. When Fox's presence was inside the lovely agent, he looked so much younger, more fragile. He traced the line of Fox's jaw, pausing to move over the mole that placed itself so seductively beside the sexy mouth. He bent to kiss those rips lips and Fox turned his head.

"No," Fox whispered.

Though Alexander found it excessively easy to force the feisty agent to his will, it was impossible for him to do anything that would disturb his sweet love. "Fox…" he whispered.

"This is wrong. This is not supposed to happen," Fox said shakily.

"We are supposed to be together forever," Alexander soothed.

"Why am I afraid of you? Why do I think you want to hurt me?" Fox stared at his lover whose eyes were not as gentle as he remembered. There was a fire in their jade depths that was wrong somehow.

"I would never hurt you, Beloved. I would kill for you. Please don't be afraid. Soon we will be together for all eternity like I promised you." Alexander was experiencing the strangest feelings. Long forgotten feelings of concern and tenderness. Rage so long a part of him warred with the purity of the love that had been changed over the centuries into something akin to obsession. He stared at his frightened lover. He was always so sure in life that this beautiful creature would never be without his protection, his love. Now Fox was staring at him in fear and confusion.

"You won't let them hurt me? You'll protect me then? I want to go…I don't want to be here. Please, my love…let me go…come with me," Fox was near tears, looking so young. He didn't understand where he was or what he was afraid of, but he was terrified.

Alexander felt the forgotten sensation of tears on his face, but he shook his head. "I'll never let you go. Not in a thousand years of holding you." He held tight as Fox shuddered. "Forever," he promised.

Fox pulled away and stood up. "This isn't where I am supposed to be. You aren't my Alexander. My Alexander would never want to hurt me…never let anyone else hurt me."

As Alexander watched Fox's face changed, eyes once torn with love and fear stared hard at him and the chin tilted up. It was his sweet agent again. He mourned the loss of his gentle Fox, he wanted Fox to accept what was happening, but it was easier to deal with him as he was now. The candlelight cast romantic shadows on Fox's slim body. Muscles were more prominent on this frame, more strength and determination in the face. More critical assessment in those haunting eyes, but it was his love for all that. Born again for him alone.

"I am going to get dressed now, and you are going to stay away from me," Mulder growled. "I've played your whore enough for the night. And you stay away from my partner, or I swear that I'll find away to destroy you!"

The words, the angry words, so unlike his gentle love made Alexander smile as he rose. Now this he could handle. He enveloped the pretty body and captured the plump lips in a fierce kiss. "You are no whore, my beautiful lover, but you are mine. When we are together finally I only hope that something of you as you are now remains. I find your fire so stimulating. Sweet Fox. Trusting Fox. And now," he chuckled. "Finally, sly Fox." He trailed the sharp hook down the graceful spine until it rested between the round buttocks, its sharp tip scraping at the tender, used flesh of Fox's anus. He slid the tip in ever so gently as Fox/Agent gasped and trembled. He curved the metal in a bit further as Fox/Agent went rigid in fear. "You don't make the rules, baby. I do." With that he faded away and Mulder was left to stand on his own, the sensation of cold metal inside him slowly fading. He sank to his knees and held his face in his hands. He wanted to run to D.C. To Walter. Walter would hold him. Walter would protect him, but who would protect Walter? He started to cry and then with a curse he stood and gathered his clothes. He would find a way to stop this. He would! He ran from the house and the candles were snuffed out by a laughing breeze as he slid into his pants. He drove recklessly back to the motel and the relative safety of his room there. He hurried into the shower and refused to cry as the hot water washed off the smell of sex. The hell of it was that some part of him longed to rush back to Alexander. He was his lover. He needed Fox. He had died for him, had loved him so well for so long. They should have run away when they had a chance, Mulder thought. He should have made Alexander leave with him sooner. These thoughts confused Mulder. What was happening to him? He was slipping in and out of reality, as if some other person existed inside him, had always existed inside him. The part of him that viewed the world with childlike innocence and wonder. The part of him that believed in everything and longed for love. He stepped out of the shower with the resolution to fight whatever it was that was happening to him. He would find a way to end this and return to the only person he loved with all his heart. As he dried off he mourned for Alexander. He had been the best of everything. He had been the brightest star in the heavens and had made Fox feel as safe as he had ever felt.

"Dammit, it isn't real. Why am I thinking it is?" He cursed. "It happened two hundred years ago. I never knew the bastard."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Krycek watched as Mulder struggled with himself. He would need such tender ministrations to forget this once Alex took him away. Tender ministrations and domination. He licked his lips as Mulder dried between his legs, up and over the sweet redolent cock, between the full cheeks and over the tender anus. He groaned as Mulder hissed as the cloth stroked his well-used anus. He would always feel that tenderness once Alex took him away. He'd have to kill Skinner to keep the bastard from following. And oh yes, the lovely Dana Scully too. She would definitely have to die. He wanted to see her eyes go wide as he placed the gun between them. Bang! Lights out bitch.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mulder slipped on a soft pair of jeans and was getting his case file together when there was an insistent knock on his door. Thinking it was Scully he rushed to open it. He blinked in surprise to see Agent Stark. The realization that this man actually had the hots for him made him flush in embarrassment.

"Stark. What are you doing here?"

"Did they arrest him?"

"What? Who?" Mulder shook his head in confusion and tiny droplets of water slid down his face. He took the towel he was holding and rubbed it through his hair.

Stark shoved his way inside the room and Mulder opened his mouth to protest when Stark's words silenced him. "Krycek. I saw him with you. Or rather I saw you crawling on your hands and knees to suck his cock," Stark growled. Little Freddy jerked in response to the remembered scene.

Mulder's jaw dropped but then he snapped it shut. He had had quite enough of being treated like some brainless slattern. "I think you have lost it, Stark."

"I saw you, bitch," Stark whispered fiercely.

Mulder did drop his jaw at that. Bitch? Some man, a fellow agent had called him a bitch. It would be hysterically funny if he weren't so stressed. "You have a serious problem, Stark. But let me assure you that I am neither inclined to humor you, nor concerned about your opinion."

"Did they arrest him?" Stark said again, his eyes devouring the fetching sight of Mulder still damp from his shower.

Mulder shook his head. "Krycek is the last man I'd get on my knees for, perhaps with the exception of you. Now get the hell out of my room before I…"

"Before you what, slut?" Stark growled as he pointed his gun at Mulder's face. His reason had left him and all he could think about was getting Fox. Getting him good.

"Put the gun away, Agent Stark. You don't want to do anything rash. Think. You're an agent of the federal government, not some criminal. Put the gun down and walk away," Mulder said in his calmest tone.

"You think you know what I want?" Stark laughed a bit at that. So Mulder wanted to play it this way? Fine he could play it this way. "C'mon. We are going to take a little drive. Just you and me and little Freddy."

Mulder cocked his head. "Little Freddy?"

Stark flushed. "Move it, Fox. Or I shoot you then take out that frigid bitch after."

Mulder tensed. "You leave her out of…"

"Move it, slut. You want to spread yourself out for a fucking traitor? You need to learn a few lessons I think. I swear I'll kill that bitch before you even have time to fall to the floor, now let's go."

Mulder weighed his chances at taking the crazy agent, but quickly thought better of it. He would wait until they were away from the motel…away from Scully. Without a word he followed Stark's directions. As he slid into the driver's seat and obeyed Stark's command to drive he saw Alex Krycek…it had to be Krycek racing out of the motel. He gaped at the leather-clad dark angel and Stark had to jab him in the ribs to get him to drive off into the night. His mind whirled. Krycek was in Cape Fear. He really was. He'd seen the look in those eyes too. It was more frightening then the cold metal of Stark's gun. He had no illusions about Krycek. The man was a killer and a traitor. There was nothing redeeming about the man. Save for his beauty, a traitorous voice whispered in his mind. Oh God, save for his incredible beauty.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Washington D.C.
Viva Towers
12:30 a.m.
Wednesday, October 11th

The dream woke him, and Skinner shuddered. There was too much blood to wash away and he cried out in rage and loss. "Fox!" Fox was dead. Slaughtered ruthlessly, his heart taken from his chest still beating. He looked about the dark room and stood shakily. "A dream, you old fool," he hissed. "Just a damn dream." The words, lonely in the bedroom startled him and he went downstairs. He stepped out on the balcony and looked at the sleeping city, taking deep and calming breaths. Mulder was a capable and clever man. He didn't need an over-protective lover breathing down his neck. The smoking bastard was playing some sort of game, and Skinner would be damned before he played along. Mulder was right about that. But, his lover had seemed so weary and distant. Skinner rubbed his smooth head. Mulder always seemed weary and distant when he was on a case like this one. He turned to go back upstairs, resolved though to do his own investigation of the events in Cape Fear. His instincts were screaming that he bring his lover back, that it wasn't a sick game, that it was real. If he found any evidence to support those feelings, he'd go down to North Carolina and bring his lover back himself. And heaven help anyone who got in his way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cape Fear
Wednesday, October 11^th
12:30 a.m.

"Take off those jeans," Stark ordered. He and Mulder stood on the cool dirt beside the river. The water gleamed like a thousand diamonds in the moonlight. Stark could see every part of Fox, save for the color of those beautiful eyes. They appeared black in the moonlight, but he knew they would be gleaming green with his repressed excitement.

"No," Mulder said calmly. "I won't."

"Do it, or I shoot," Stark warned.

"Then shoot, but I am not going to play your sick game." Mulder stood deceptively relaxed. His lips were pursed in determination and he watched Stark carefully. The man was deranged, and deranged men could be counted on to make mistakes. "You can't win, Stark. If you shoot me then you lose, if you don't…you lose."

Stark laughed. "I could shoot you on the leg, pretty. It wouldn't kill you, but it would hurt like a bitch. Now fucking strip, bitch."

"No."

"Strip."

"No. Go ahead and shoot, but you better shoot to kill, because if you don't, I'll kill you when you get close enough to touch."

Stark hesitated for a moment. Mulder's voice was so calm. He wasn't in the least bit afraid. Contrary to what he had threatened, Stark couldn't imagine shooting those gorgeous, long legs. He wanted them wrapped around him as he raped him. Rape. That was what this was he acknowledged finally. He was going to rape Spooky Mulder. The thought excited him. All the veneer of consensual sex was torn away. He wanted to hurt Mulder. To violate him in the most obscene ways. Hurt him so badly that the agent would wish he were dead. His body surged as he accepted that this was what he'd wanted all along. "I'm gonna make you scream, little Fox. And no one will hear you."

Mulder shook his head, "Go to hell, you sick twist. I've been threatened by more frightening things than you. You are nothing." His words were filled with disgust, but his eyes caught the dark shape of the high rock formation arching over the rushing waters. I died right there, he thought and he trembled.

Stark watched, amazed, as the posture of his prey changed. Fox looked around wildly, his eyes wide and frightened. "That's more like it, little whore," Stark purred.

Fox heard the words and he shook his head trying to clear it. He was so afraid. No one had ever talked to him like that before. No that wasn't right. He was an agent, he'd seen so many things, had almost died so many times. This man was nothing. A insect that he could stomp on. No. He had a gun and he was frightening. He stepped back away from the big man. "Please. What do you want?"

Stark frowned. He'd just told the little slut what he wanted. What kind of game was he playing? "Take off your fucking pants. I'm not going to tell you again." He jerked his gun in the slut's direction and he grinned as Fox gasped.

Fox turned and ran. He expected to be shot in the back but if he could just make it to Alexander he'd be safe. He found himself fumbling for his weapon, but he never carried one. He was confused, it was cold and the water beckoned him. He cried out as he was tackled from behind, the man's weight crushing him as he struggled to escape.

"Wanna play, Fox? Wanna play with me?"

"No, please. Please." Fox surprised himself by bringing an elbow up sharply into the heavy man's ribs and slamming his head back into the face of his attacker. The man howled as he rolled off and Fox got to his feet. He wanted to run but something made him dive for the man's gun. He wouldn't let some sniveling insect get the better of him. He almost reached the gun when his foot was grabbed and he was hauled back away from the strange weapon. He was rolled on his back and slapped, hard. And then again. He tasted blood on his lips and he stared up at the man who pinned him. The barrel of the gun was placed at his temple and though he wanted to cry out in fear, his mind was busily plotting his escape. It was as if some other person was inside him, someone stronger and braver than he had ever been allowed to be. Someone who knew more about pain and betrayal. This other could take care of himself, and his voice screamed for Fox to do something. To shove the gun away and fight the bastard, but Fox froze. Where was Alexander? He had to help him. Help your goddammed self! The voice screamed. But how? The man on top of him was so big and he had a gun. Fox trembled as the man tore at Fox's cheap pants. The fabric was rough and he wondered dismally why he would wear such garments. He whimpered as his penis was grasped in a rough, huge hand.

"You're so pretty, Fox."

The man was insane! Did he know who his father was? How did he dare attack a Spender? The man was bending to kiss him and Fox tossed his head. The man bit his cheek and spread Fox's legs. He bit at Fox's neck and arched to attack Fox's erect nipples.

"Shit, I want to hurt you so bad," Stark growled. The look of fear in those big eyes turned him on so much. So much. "I'm going to fuck you like you've never been fucked before. You're gonna forget all about that traitor Krycek."

Mulder fought to regain control, but it was as if he were locked away somewhere as his body lay submissively beneath the crazy agent. Fight, damn you! He screamed. But he knew the frightened other who invaded him didn't know how…didn't comprehend the violence he was being subjected to. He couldn't work up any fury at that, the other had never known such horror, had never been touched by anyone this way. His fear and confusion was like a horrible dream.

"Please, please stop," Fox cried. His chest arched as the man bit a tender nipple. The gun was discarded as the man used both hands to lift Fox's hips from the ground. He grinned wickedly before sucking Fox's cock into his mouth, then leaving that prize to bite his way down Fox's ass. He bit at the anus with sharp teeth and he sucked wildly. Fox stared up at the manic face and he started to cry in great helpless waves.

He was finally with Fox Mulder. Finally tasting and hurting him. God he was so horny he thought he'd explode. The sobbing agent with his legs up and spread made him wild. He dropped the hips and fumbled with his own trousers. "Gonna fuck you now, baby. Gonna fuck you into the ground."

The click of metal startled him just as a gun barrel stroked at his flushed face.

"I don't really see that happening. No, I think you're going to get off of him and then I think I'll make *you* scream."

The voice was cold and Stark recognized it at once.

"Alex…Alex," Fox was sobbing now. His beautiful lover was with him now, and nothing could hurt him. He tired to cover his nudity as the evil man slowly stood at Alex's command to do so. "Alex…he was going to…and I…he wanted to…" Fox babbled.

Alex swung the gun in a ruthless arc and knocked Stark out. He stared down at Fox; his heart leaping at the welcome and love in those wide eyes that was visible even in the moonlight.

"Hold me. Hold me, please," Fox whispered.

Alex looked shocked but quickly knelt and gathered the trembling, nude body to him. He captured the ripe lips in a demanding kiss. Tasting once again the only man that drove all reason from him. He pulled Fox tight to him and let the unusually submissive agent feel his large erection. "You're mine," he hissed in Fox's mouth.

"Yes, yes. Oh, Alexander, what are we going to do about him?"

Alex froze. What was this? Did Fox think he was Alexander? He looked more closely at Fox's familiar face and he grinned. Fox looked so innocent, so trusting. "Oh yeah, I'm going to like this," he chuckled.

Fox stared up at the beloved face and he trembled, there was something dangerous there, like some ferocious beast waiting to be let out of a cage. He recoiled in fear.

Mulder shook off the bastard's arms and stood up. "You!" He hissed. "Who…what do you think you are doing here? I should kill you right here and now!"

Alex grinned. Now that was interesting. Very interesting. He held his gun up and shrugged. "I guess you could try, Agent Mulder. But then I'm the one with the gun. And you know I am not afraid to use it." He licked his lips as Mulder stiffened. "Yeah, baby, you know what I am. You know I'm more dangerous than this piece of carrion. Why don't you run on back to Scully? I'm not ready for you just yet."

Mulder glared and searched around for his pants. He put them on quickly and before he retreated to the bastard Stark's car, he hissed, "When this is over, Krycek, I'm going to see you get what you deserve."

Krycek nodded. "You really will, baby, you really will."

Mulder didn't spare Stark a second glance, though later as he drove to the motel he wondered almost frantically why he had left the bastard with Krycek. He couldn't answer that; it was too much like pulling the trigger himself.

Krycek toed the unconscious agent. "Wake up, shit. I'm going to show how to really play. My Fox. My game."

A wind stirred the trees around him and something dark watched him, considering him and his possessive words. Alexander had been there to see the image of himself tear the rapist from his sweet Fox. He would have moved then to kill the rapist, but his double intrigued him. He swirled incorporeal near the kneeling man, and smiled as his double pulled out a wicked knife. Oh yes. He was most intrigued. He watched long into the night as the rapist screamed and begged for mercy, and it was his whispered suggestion to his double that spurred the skilled killer to drag the mutilated corpse to the river. And it was he who ensured the body went deep and lay trapped under submerged roots to stay forever. It was he who took the man's castrated penis as a trophy to show his beloved how safe he was from the man. He watched his double search around for that fat bit of flesh and he chuckled audibly before leaving once more. His spirit called back to his remains, hidden in the plantation house.

Krycek heard the faint sound of a man laughing and it sounded eerily like his own laugh. He washed the blood from his body and cleaned his knife of the bits of flesh and blood still clinging to it. The bastard Stark would never touch something that belonged to him again that was certain. Now if he could only have Skinner under his knife. Skinner who didn't have to force Fox to give him what belonged to Krycek. He looked at the sky and smiled. A storm was coming. Even as he thought it, rain began to fall and he watched, smiling darkly as the rain washed the shore clean of the puddles of blood.

He made his way to his car and sat there considering Fox's first reaction to him. Could it be that somehow the too-gentle, too-frail Fox Spender was somehow able to manifest himself inside the wonderful Agent Mulder? Oh he hoped so. That look on his face was priceless. He really believed that no one had ever seen Fox Mulder look so helpless and submissive. God he wanted that look again. He wanted everything Fox had to offer be he the gentle Spender or the feisty Mulder. He ignored his erection. In time Fox would soothe it himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Washington D.C.
Viva Towers
Wednesday, October 11^th
1:15 a.m.

The phone woke Skinner, and he growled angrily. Would he never be able to sleep?

"This had better be good," he said angrily.

"Walter? It's Mulder."

Skinner sat up immediately. "What is it? Is something wrong? Where's Scully?"

Mulder ran a hand through his hair. "I just had a…a terrible…Stark was here. Jesus, Walter."

Skinner stood and he had to pause before he could make his voice as gentle as possible. "Talk to me."

"He really tried to…well he would have…but he didn't…shit."

"What is it? Fox, you're scaring me, baby."

"I'm fine…really. Now. I mean, I'm in my room, but Stark tried to…he attacked me." Mulder cursed himself. If Walter came down here, Alexander would kill him. If he went to Walter, Alexander would kill Scully and Walter too. If Walter knew that Krycek really was here, there would be no way he'd let Mulder stay. "I got away, but I just thought you should know."

"I am getting off the phone and coming down there."

"No, Stark said he was going to you. To tell you all about us," Fox lied quickly. "He knows about us, Walter, and he thinks he can threaten you. You need to be there when he comes. He tried to r…rape me. Please be there when he comes." His voice broke.

Walter managed to stay calm enough to soothe Fox's fears. He promised he would be there when Stark came to spread his nasty tales. He promised everything Fox needed to hear. When he could be sure that Fox was calmed down, he got off the phone. His eyes stared into the darkness and he began to plot a murder for the first time in his life. There was no remorse in him for his plans. No remorse whatsoever.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Michael it is all yours.